Like Glass We Break (Glass #2) (16 page)

Chapter Twenty

Lauren

“A parking ticket?” Lauren gasps. She panics for a few minutes as her eyes scan the ticket for clues as to whether or not whoever wrote the ticket knew the car was stolen from the dead woman who used to live next door to her in her old apartment complex. Before being admitted to the hospital, Lauren hadn’t seen anyone visit the woman in years. In fact, the woman would invite Lauren over regularly for supper and tell her how lonely she was now that her kids were successful, and off doing their own thing. After the woman died, the car had sat there untouched for months. When Lauren got out of the hospital, there it was; in the exact same parking spot it had been in all those years.

Lauren had a key. She had offered to run errands a few times for the woman, who was having a hard time getting around, so when her husband passed away she had taken his spare and passed it along to Lauren.

When the ambulance crashed and Lauren ran free, she ran to the car, grabbed her key from the box she had stuck underneath it, and took off. She met up with Nathaniel, an old friend she had met back before she was ever married, and he helped her clean up her wound, stitching it closed with a sewing needle and thread.

He had warned her to stay away from her ex-husband before they had even started dating, but she didn’t listen. She thought he was jealous. Nathaniel wasn’t her type. He was sweet and caring. She thought she was more attracted to the dangerous, sexy men, like her ex-husband, who would put her in her place—except he put her in her place, all right—so much so that she ended up having to kill him, ruining her life, or saving it, depending on how it could be interpreted. If she hadn’t killed her ex-husband, she would have never ended up at Aldona Mental Hospital, where she met Oliver, sweet Oliver. She would have never known what true love was—a love she was fighting for right now.

Nathaniel worked as an office clerk at a police department, so he was able to help track Oliver’s movements as he traveled around.

The parking ticket. Fuck, the parking ticket.

Hopefully they just ran the plates, wrote the ticket, and let it go—didn’t actually realize it was a dead woman’s car.

Lauren folds the tiny piece of paper up and fits it into her pocket. She checks her phone for Nathaniel’s text message, and punches the address into the GPS. She is to meet this man in less than an hour, and then she can catch her three o’clock flight with a brand new passport and a brand new identity.

On the brief drive to this place, she wonders what her new name will be.
Prudence? Viola? She could be either of these.

Prudence Viola. Born and raised in California, she moved to Dallas three years ago for school. She’s currently studying law and pursuing her Master’s degree at the University of Dallas but she needs a break. She’s done her final exams for the semester and her boyfriend invited her along for a ski trip in Vermont. She’s never been skiing before so she’s not sure whether or not this is a good idea or if she’ll be back after the Christmas holidays to finish off her last semester in a full body cast. However, she doesn’t want to say no to her boyfriend. He’s so sweet. He surprised her by planning the trip and buying the plane ticket without her knowledge, so she really had no choice but to accept. Little did she know, there was going to be a marriage proposal during this romantic trip to the ski resort in Vermont. As if the beautiful hotel room with the fireplace and view of the snow covered trees weren’t enough, Prudence’s boyfriend of six years, who had begun studying at the University of Dallas two years before her, was going to ask her to marry him by placing a large diamond ring he had spent months carefully choosing in a glass of champagne they would share in the hot tub on the deck of the hotel at the base of Killington Mountain. With enthusiasm, she’d shout yes repeatedly, as she’d allow him to slip the ring onto her finger and then leap into his arms. He’d allow her to finish school and then they’d start their life together. They’d marry in the summer; it would be a large ceremony, with about three hundred of their closest family and friends, maybe even at the same lodge where he proposed because, during breakfast the next morning, as new fiancée and fiancé, they’ll be told it’s just as breathtaking in the summer time. Shortly after the wedding, Prudence’s husband will announce he’s gotten the job at the company where he did his gas fitter’s apprenticeship and Prudence will announce that she is expecting their first child. She will accept a secretarial position at a law firm for a couple months but then take her maternity leave early. She’ll be undecided about whether or not she wants to return to work or be a stay at home mother.

Lauren looks up at the sketchy apartment building and realizes this must be the place. She signals and pulls into a parking spot on the side of the street. Getting out of the vehicle slowly, she makes sure she hasn’t violated any sort of parking laws.

“Hey,” a man says casually, from the other side of the street.

Lauren glances over. He’s standing in the apartment building door having a cigarette, which Lauren thought was illegal—was there not some sort of law about smoking around building entrances?

“Thomas?” Lauren asks slowly.

“No names.”

“Oh, right.”

“Here.” He extends his hand, holding out a sealed orange envelope for her. Lauren isn’t sure how this works, and doesn’t know whether or not she should open it now. Thomas senses her hesitation. “Just take it. Open it later. It’s already been paid for.”

“Oh, right, okay. Thanks, Thom—uh, sorry. Thanks.” She takes the envelope and holds it firmly in her hand as she crosses the street. She never looks back to see if Thomas is still standing outside, watching her get in her vehicle.

She starts the car. She has two hours before her flight so she decides she’d better get to the airport and check in. It takes about half an hour to get there, and the orange envelope sits on her passenger seat the entire way; her identity still unknown. She pulls into a parking lot where she needs to pay once she leaves. She doesn’t even know if she’ll ever be back for this car. Maybe she’ll just stay in Vermont—or Canada, wherever it is he’s headed—with Oliver, and they’ll live the rest of their lives together, free from judgment and people trying to cure them from mental illnesses they’re not suffering from. Her ticket is, after all, only one-way.

In the parking lot, still sitting in her vehicle, Lauren opens the envelope—and becomes Adia Judd.

Adia Judd. I can do this. Adia. Adia. I am meeting my boyfriend in Vermont. We are meeting up for a romantic getaway. It’s been a long semester and this weekend will be well deserved. Hot tub, wine, and lots of sex. I am Adia.

“Do you have ID?” the woman at the ticket desk asks. She isn’t wearing a name tag.

“I am Adia,” Lauren replies.

“Okay, ID please, Adia,” the woman repeats.

Lauren fumbles through her wallet and produces a Texas drivers’ license under the name of Adia Judd. She confidently hands it across the desk to the woman, who stands, waiting for it impatiently in her dark blue uniform.

“Okay, Adia Judd. Let me just pull this up. Where are you flying today?” the woman asks, as she punches letters into her computer.

“Burlington, Vermont. And then I’m driving to Newport. I have a weekend planned with my boyfriend. Actually, he planned it for me. It was sort of a surprise, but he had to let me know so I could take time off work. My boss is pretty good about that sort of thing but it’s that time of year, you know? It’s always best to run it by them and make sure it’s okay,” Lauren explains.

“So, Burlington?”

“And then driving to Newport.”

“So, Burlington,” the woman repeats. Her tone is dry. Perhaps she shouldn’t be working in customer service—especially in an airport, where things are bound to get tense. People are already irritated. Flying isn’t exactly enjoyable. It’s necessary, but not necessarily pleasant. People just want to get where they’re going, and fast. They definitely don’t want to pay an arm and a leg and another leg for something if there’s going to be delays or cancellations, even if the reasons are out of the airline’s controls. Weather, for example: everyone seems to get upset during the holidays when ice storms, especially up north where Lauren is from, causes all sorts of delays and people end up having to sleep in airports, waiting for their connecting flights. They get angry. They yell. What do they expect the staff to do? Demand that the pilot fly the plane, regardless of the conditions? Regardless of the fact it has been deemed unsafe to do so?
Fly the plane, sir. Bring all 464 passengers down to a fiery death with you. Listen to them scream and cry for help as their flesh burns from their bones and they try to escape the smoke-filled craft, assuming they survived the impact, which, realistically, they did not. Fly the plane, sir.

“Burlington, that’s right,” Lauren confirms, nodding. The woman hands her back her ID and she carefully slides it back into its place in her wallet.

“Student rate?” the woman asks.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Well, I’m a student. I work also. Full time student, and work. It’s not easy, but I get by. Not sure how I do it sometimes. A lot of coffee, and a lot of wine. The boyfriend is supportive, but my parents aren’t as much—”

“Here’s your ticket. I can help whoever is next in line,” she calls out, looking past Lauren.

Lauren looks back behind her and notices that the line has grown to at least six people. She wonders how many of them actually are who they say they are.

Realizing she is now just standing in the way of other passengers, Lauren holds her ticket tight, grabs her small bag containing a tooth brush and two changes of clothes, and makes her way into the airport.

She feels as though everyone is staring at her, like she’s wearing a huge sign that clearly says her name isn’t Adia.

I am Adia.

She’s nervous as she goes through security, but to her surprise, everything goes smoothly. Finally, she takes a seat at a window near her terminal so she can watch the screen that shows the arrivals and departures for any delays. So far, everything is on time today.

It’s a good thing she didn’t arrive at the airport any later than she did—according to the screen, her flight is scheduled to depart in about forty minutes. In just twenty minutes, they’ll be making their first call to the passengers—first the elderly and parents with small children, then the general admission.

Almost like clockwork, Lauren is seated and the plane is taxiing on the runway forty-three minutes later. She closes her eyes.

In less than two hours, the plane will begin to make its descent toward Burlington, Vermont. Lauren won’t need to wait around for her luggage; the only bag she has is small enough to keep with her as a carry-on. She’ll be able to just walk straight out of the airport. The tricky part will be finding a way up to Newport. It’ll be just getting dark, and hitchhiking won’t be the best idea in the world, but she’s willing to do whatever it is she needs to do in order to find Oliver—especially if she can do something that will get her to him tonight, so she can prevent him from spending one more night with another woman.

The man beside Lauren glances over at her and she takes the opportunity to say hello.

“Where are you heading?” she asks.

“Actually, I’m heading up to Sherbrooke, Quebec,” the man replies. He goes back to reading his newspaper.

“Oh, what for?” she presses.

“Work.”

“What do you do?”

“I am a sales person for a battery company,” he replies, folding up his newspaper and slipping it into his bag.

“That’s pretty cool. Do you come up here a lot?” Lauren asks, smiling. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to make conversation. It’s been a really long day.”

“No worries. I am actually from this area. We have regular district meetings in Dallas, so I’m down there every few months. I’m just heading home now,” he explains.

“You’re awfully English to be from Quebec.” Lauren laughs.

“Sherbrooke is very English, actually. You’d be surprised. There are two big English schools there, and a lot of English speaking people who are born and raised there.”

“Oh! I didn’t know that. I’m heading up that way too, tonight. If I can, that is. I’m trying to get up there to visit my grandma, only I didn’t think too far ahead—I booked the flight but I couldn’t get a rental car. How far is it from Burlington to Newport?” she asks softly.

“Just under two hours.”

“Oh, wow. I guess I’ll be taking a hotel for the night and figuring it out in the morning. I’m hoping my grandma can come pick me up. She does have a car but she won’t drive at night, or in the winter unless the roads are really clear. I mean really, really clear. So we’ll see. Otherwise, is there a bus?” Lauren asks innocently.

“Oh, well, like I said—I’m heading that way tonight if you’d like to go with me,” he offers. “My name is Austin.”

“Nice to meet you, Austin. I’m Adia.” Lauren smiles warmly and they shake hands.

Although she’s more than willing to give him a blow job, he drives her all the way from Burlington to Newport with nothing more than some light conversation and a country music station the entire way.